Being Narnian
by Starbrow
Summary: Jill asks the High King to meet her in Aunt Polly's library. And a King is nothing if not giving.


_Being Narnian_

by Starbrow

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**Summary: **Jill asks the High King to meet her in Aunt Polly's library. And a King is nothing if not giving.

**Rating: **M for sexytimes and sauciness

**Author's Note: **I think Jill and Peter would have loads of fun together, so they agreed to star in this lemon. It's set a bit before _The Last Battle _and assumes canon ages – at least, as canon as Lewis's timeline – so Jill is close to 17 and Peter is 22, and they've been apart for a few months before this Friends of Narnia meeting. Naturally, things have gotten a little...heated during the waiting period!

Thanks to **rthstewart** for the beta and dogged determination to make sure this got published.

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"Ahem." Peter planted his foot in the doorway of Aunt Polly's library. "Where do you think you're sneaking off to?"

Jill looked up from beneath her eyelashes. He'd gotten her note, then. And, she assumed from his cool surveyal of her attempt to slip past him, was more than willing to play along. Oh how she missed these games in the long gaps between meetings of the Friends of Narnia! "I wasn't trying to _sneak_ off anywhere, I was merely on my way to –"

He put one hand against the doorframe. "It is no good to protest. What is your game, madam?" His tone was regal and his gaze commanding, though the effect was undermined by the lock of golden hair falling in his eyes. Still, Peter was the consummate King, undeterred by lack of royal garb or crown or kingdom, authority firmly established. Exactly who she had asked to meet her in the library this afternoon.

She repressed the urge to grin wildly at the success of her request. "Trust me, Peter, if I wanted to go somewhere unnoticed, I would have been there by now." It was a deliberate flaunting of his authority, using his name and refusing to give him a definite answer. She held her breath, wondering if he would understand and rise to the challenge.

"Is that any way to address your King?" said Peter sternly. A little shiver ran through her.

Jill made her eyes go wide. "I'm sorry, sire, I forgot..." Like hell she'd forgot. And if she had her way, this would end with him crying _her_ name, much as he had last night. Every bit of her wanted to cross the short distance between them, climb him like a tree, and have her way with him then and there. But Jill was good at getting what she wanted, even if she had to wait a very long time to do so.

And right now, she wanted the High King to claim her.

"What else have you forgotten?" With a single step, Peter took possession of the room and shut the door behind him. It closed with a resounding thud. Jill's breath came harder. Every gesture, every line of his tall proud figure screamed majesty, authority. _King._ But it would never do to show him how much this excited her. Not yet, anyways.

Better to tease than to tip her hand too soon.

"I'm afraid I've forgotten lots of things I crammed during lessons this year," said Jill with a shrug. The neckline of her dress slipped a little down her shoulder. She looked up at Peter. "It's the hols, after all. I've already taken all my exams. Now, if you'll excuse me –"

Peter palmed the lock – and since when did Aunt Polly's library lock from the inside? – and it clicked into place. She wasn't going anywhere. Once more, the ease of his command of the situation sent little ripples down her skin.

He let his gaze linger over her. "What a shame. I had such a loyal subject last season," Peter said, equally careless as he put a hand on her shoulder and ran the pad of his thumb over her collarbone. "She would never have given me such lip before."

Jill quirked an eyebrow at him. _Lower, please._ "Not that sort of lip, anyways. Wouldn't you say, your Majesty?"

The corners of his mouth raised, but he couldn't disguise the heat that flared in his eyes at her words. "Precisely. The proper kind."

She gave him a considering, innocent look. "As in, on my knees?"

"We would accept such fealty, yes."

Jill was strongly tempted to obey, but his palm was sliding down her breast and she definitely approved of this path. No point hampering such progress. "Before I do any such thing," she said, struggling not to moan her enjoyment of his exploration, "you should know that I do not yield easily, sire."

"You should." Peter took her well in hand, leaning over her as his other hand came to rest on the curve of her hip, casually, possessively. "I would hate to think you'd forgotten every lesson in pleasing your King." His voice dropped to a low murmur against her ear.

Jill felt herself tremble. She turned her face toward his, resisted the urge to breathe a kiss under his jaw. "And if I did?"

"We would simply have to teach you again." And then there was no more talking for a moment, as he was kissing her thoroughly, insistently, till every breath and bone and thought left her body. The things he could do with his mouth...

Jill clutched the front of his shirt, trying to pull him closer, for she had to stand on the tips of her toes to kiss him and damn it, she wanted _more._

She was the shortest Pole one would ever find. This was a great source of hilarity for _Them_ – for there was always a They, no matter how many rules the school made – and every year there was a new joke that went around about her height. It didn't help that the fashionable girls at school were blonde, tall, and curvy, with permanent waves and silk stockings and an air of worldliness. The sort of girl she would expect Peter to go with.

But when she was with Peter, Jill always felt she was just as she should be. She liked how big he was next to her, how he could pick her up so easily like she was no weight at all and pin her to the wall or bed or tree or nearest convenient surface. She liked the contrast of his light hair and her dark, mingled on the pillow or tangled together in the wind. She liked how he didn't care if she was in a skirt, stockings, trousers, or nothing at all; he wanted her regardless, and he had her most thoroughly. And she liked how he could completely possess her small breasts and hips in his large hands and caress every part of her so easily.

Judging from the hard length that was pressed against the top of her hip, Peter liked this too.

Too high. Far too high. Either he needed to come down, or she needed to go _up. _"I do remember one order, though," Jill said rather breathlessly, knowing exactly how to get Peter going. "Skip the stockings, wear a skirt and nothing underneath it..."

Jill suddenly found herself with her back to the wall and Peter's hands under her rear, lifting her up and wrapping her legs around him. "Tease," he said roughly into her neck. "Of all my orders, _that _had to be the one you decide to follow."

"Practicality," she replied with some difficulty. His hand was tracing over her leg, over her dress but not going _under_ it as she wanted. _Please..._ but she would make him make her beg. Hold out just a little longer..."No need to ruin another set of stockings. Which reminds me, the King still owes me a pair."

A quick hitch of his arms and she was pressed firm and tight against him. "I'm open to...negotiations."

She couldn't think under such circumstances. "I...I...can be a quick learner."

"And?"

"And...follow orders. For today," Jill amended. A concession like that needed terms of limitations.

"Good girl." A little whimper escaped from her lips as she felt Peter's mouth move over her neck, to that one place that made her want to fall apart. He canted his hips against hers - he knew her too well - knew the feel of him drove her mad with longing for him.

She nuzzled at his neck, the strength of his arms holding her tight against him. _Think, think... _"And in return I want..."

"Tell me what you want and I will grant it." He was every inch the High King, and it sent a jolt of frantic need straight through her.

"All of you," she murmured, driven to honesty by her passion. Part of him was never enough; she wanted _Peter_, unrestrained and abandoned. Just as she was enough when she was with him, the fullness of who Peter truly was made her heart sing and her skin flush with desire.

"Then beg me."

"_Please,_" Jill breathed.

He set his mouth on hers and parted her shaking lips, kissing her urgently and pressing her into the wall. The skirt of her dress was already falling around her thighs from the angle of her legs but he pushed it up and massaged the curve of her bum while moving flush against him. The teasing agony of the slow grind of their hips made Jill want to beg and moan for more, always more. "Please," she pleaded again. "Let me feel you..." She was desperate to feel his skin on hers, with nothing in between them.

"I can deny you nothing." He set her down on her feet, and with a swiftness and surety that was all Peter, her skirt was rucked up and he was kneeling and oh God he was pushing her against the wall again and nudging her knees apart and spreading her wide and _yes yes right there_ and there was something heady and intoxicating about the High King on his knees but oh all she could think about was the way his mouth drank her in and the flat of his tongue nudging her clit.

Jill buried her hand in his hair and bit her lip to keep from crying out. He wouldn't relent but he also seemed to be in no hurry, luxuriously dragging his tongue over her skin and nestling it in between the folds of her sex until she thought she would scream. "God, Peter..."

He looked up at her – she could never get tired of looking at him like this, the intensity of his dark blue eyes focused solely on _her _– and said with an arch of his brow, "I think the title you are looking for is _High King."_

Her fingers tightened on the locks of his blond hair. She was just desperate enough to obey. "High King, I beg of you..."

"To stop?" His breath was warm just over her skin but not _on_ it.

Jill mewled with frustration. "Don't you dare. Keep going."

Peter gave a soft laugh but whispered, "As my lady pleases," and then _oh God yes _she felt the hot swipe of his tongue between her thighs once more, seeking out every place that made her quiver. Her back arched involuntarily and she tugged on his hair, wordlessly begging for more even with all of his warm mouth upon her.

And he knew that _more_ meant slower and long wet strokes and an aching teasing flick at the end and that the rough prickle of his jaw made the soft warmth of his tongue even better. He was merciless, in command of her body and pulling her to the height of needing release and just denying it and letting up, till she was desperate for relief.

There, she was at the crest, if he would only let her...! "_Please, my King."_

One hot luxurious lick and she gave a strangled sob as the wave hit and sweet hard ecstasy flooded her body.

Jill slowly uncurled her fingers from Peter's hair, grateful for his hands steadying her shaky legs. "That," she said, inhaling deeply, "was not in the negotiations."

Peter kissed the inside of her thigh. "Call it a boon."

"The King is generous..." She was smiling, blissful but undeterred from her mission. "...but I still haven't gotten what I came for."

He rose to his feet and skimmed a hand over her hip...under her dress this time. "Is that so? I could have sworn I heard you begging for me to continue, just moments ago."

"Well, since you offered..." Jill gave a little shrug, but couldn't disguise the aftershock of pleasure at the way his thumb brushed her sensitive flesh. "I'm not complaining, you know, but I believe you misinterpreted what I was asking for."

"Then perhaps you should learn to be more specific."

"Or perhaps," said Jill, casting him a saucy glance, "perhaps I should stop asking altogether and simply take what I want."

"A king is nothing if not giving."

She encountered no resistance as she traced her fingertips down his stomach, diverted to a thorough exploration of his chest – Peter had a very nice chest, distractingly nice – and returned to her southward course.

"You cede very easily, sir." Jill paused, toying with the buckle of his belt, trying to think how to get the biggest rise out of him. "I might almost think you _wanted_ me to win these negotiations." The challenge was clear, unmistakable. And he took the bait.

Peter bent his head over hers. "Believe me," he murmured, drawing little circles with his thumb on her hip, "when I say that if I wanted to stop you, I could."

Jill felt _that_ straight down to her center.

The expertise of his other hand working the buttons down the back of her dress...by the Mane, everything this man did radiated ability. He pressed her backwards into the wall, and she was aware of how entirely surrounded by him she was, engulfed in his powerful frame. It made her hot all over. "But never forget who is in control here, my lady."

She wasn't likely to anytime soon. She was utterly at his mercy, and he knew it. "What are you going to do to me?" The fantasy of it was setting her thighs on fire.

Peter's arms were locked around her. One hand gathered her wrists behind her. His beard was rough on her neck. "I will fuck you until you cannot stop calling my name."

Involuntarily, a whimper escaped her lips.

Instantly she was in his arms and on her back, caught up and laid on the library chaise, and he was on top of her and kissing her and kissing her and shoving his trousers down and she groped to unbutton his shirt. Before she could finish doing so, her hands were above her head, pinned to the chaise in his strong grip, and he was dragging her dress up and off of her.

Then she was completely bare before him (having left off all undergarments as ordered), while he was still half dressed. She could feel the hot hard length of him against her, cradled in a pool of fabric between her thighs. But it was the look on Peter's face, the keen unwavering gaze of his eyes for her alone, that made her legs fall apart and her hips rise up to meet his.

He was going to take her, and there was absolutely nothing she wanted more.

With a single thrust he was inside her and wringing breathless cries from her lips, before he covered them with his own and ravished her with kisses and drove into her body over and over. There were times when their lovemaking was leisurely and gentle. This was not one of them. She had asked to be claimed by the High King, and his claim was unmistakable.

Peter slid a firm hand under her jaw, demanding her mouth with each thrust. Jill wrapped her legs around his and felt him sink deeper and deeper into her. She couldn't imagine anything more perfect than the way she and Peter fit together. The way he filled her completely...how _big_ he was, over her and in her as if she could easily drown under him. It was one of the earliest things she found exciting about Peter, and it still sent ripples down her spine.

And after that, she could not think at all except for how much _more_ of him she wanted, even when he was buried hilt deep in her, she craved _Peter_, ached for him, needed to feel him all over her and _yes yes like that_ and Peter responded to her every sigh and moan and did whatever made her make that sound again and again. A rough hand on her breast and Jill was shifting wildly under him, seeking relief; a tilt of her hips and he was filling every bit of her, till she wanted so badly to give in and shatter beneath him.

But they both knew what the conditions of her release were.

"You wish to please your King?" he growled, right against her neck.

"_Yes," _said Jill, and a shock of pleasure resonated within her where he reached a spot so deep and tightly coiled.

"Then say my name."

"Peter," she half-sobbed, teetering on the edge.

"Say it, sweetheart."

"_Peter Peter Peterpeterpeter-" _and Jill was clenching around him and coming apart and chanting his name as the sweet urgency exploded through her body. Her toes curled, and for a long moment she couldn't even move, so great was the feeling of utter completion and elation that overcame her. Even then, she clutched Peter's back, hugging him tightly to her, and he closed his arms around her and whispered in her ear.

"Good girl."

Jill felt a little shiver like a blissful breeze run across her body. Her feet hooked around his legs; one hand ran down his back to pull his hips even closer. "All of you," she whispered.

It was like something shifted and locked into place, and _he_ was her world, an all-consuming force around her and above her and _in _her and _oh_ she loved this part. She loved watching Peter like this, uninhibited and unprotected, and that _she_ got to see him like this. She brushed the hair from his eyes and kissed his shoulder, exhilarated and satiated all at once and longing to see him so as well.

"Will you..."

Jill smiled up at him. He always asked, even when she had said _yes_ so many times. "Of course, your Majesty. I'm all yours."

With a final thrust, Peter let out a shuddering breath and withdrew from her, then rose up on his knees above her. Jill put her hand over his. "My beautiful King," she murmured involuntarily. Because he _was_ beautiful, so passionate and powerful and just _Peter_, and she loved being his and watching him mark her as his. She couldn't take her gaze away from him, her eyes locked on his with each touch and motion, and she thought he was never more magnificent than the moment when he fell off the edge and poured himself into her welcoming skin. And seeing Peter so abandoned, so utterly _out_ of control, was somehow the best part of all.

"Jill!" Her name was wrung from his lips in a breathless cry, and her King let go in a magnificent rush all over her face. His claim was complete, and now she had the mark to show for it.

Jill ran her fingers down his back, welcoming him into her arms as Peter sank onto the chaise beside her. It was a tight fit.

"By the Lion, Jill," he said, panting, "you will be the death of me."

Jill couldn't help the little laugh that welled up inside her. "Oh Peter, I dearly hope so." She kissed the smooth kissable hollow of his throat, right above his collarbone. Really, how _did_ she get so lucky? His strong arms surrounded her. God, she loved his arms. "I thought I would go mad, so long without you."

"Woman, you _had_ me last night." His hand fell luxuriously over her hip.

"One night in six months. Do you honestly think that's enough?" Jill demanded, running her fingers down his shoulders and over his chest. "You have no idea how many times I read your letters just before bed, and dreamt of this moment..."

Peter laughed, still dazed-looking. "Sweet Jill, I have done much more than dream..."

Jill trailed her hand over his stomach. "So have I, your Majesty."

He touched the proof of his passion strewn across her face. "Dreams don't even begin to compare."

"I hope I have pleased my King," said Jill, feeling suddenly shy.

His hand on her hip tightened. "Jill..." Peter's voice grew gruff. "You help me to _be _King. Here, I mean. You bring Narnia to me. And I can't..." He stroked the curve of her jaw. "I can't even tell you what you do to me."

"You don't have to," Jill said, covering his hand with hers. "You just have to keep showing me."

"Always."

Jill leaned in to kiss him, and then...

The sound of the doorknob being tried. They both jumped, relaxing when the efforts were in vain.

"Good idea of Polly's, that lock," said Peter under his breath, right against her ear.

_Barup barup! _A firm knock sounded on the library door.

"Damn," said Jill. "I thought they'd be gone for hours."

"No such luck this time." Peter sprawled against her, lazily putting his trousers back to rights and reaching into his pocket. He came up with a handkerchief and tenderly began to attend to her face. "We can't all fall into a magic wardrobe at any moment. Jill, why the _library?_"

"I thought you were the one to first suggest this location, your Majesty," said Jill with a grin.

Peter paused mid-wipe. "You are sadly mistaken, madam." He gave her a stern look. "You seduced me, you and your lack of proper undergarments. Have you no respect for your King?"

"On the contrary," she said, "I have the utmost reverence for my High King. I try to follow all his commands to the letter." She traced his hand along her hip, emphasizing the lack of proper undergarments. "And see how well I have served him?"

"Very well, woman," he grumbled, removing the last evidence from her face. "I cede your point." Much more leisurely this time, he grazed the swells of her breasts with his other hand. "Must you wear clothes again?"

"As we are in England and not in Narnia, I believe I must. Hand me my dress?"

There was a muffled collection of voices from behind the door, a young male's voice - Scrubb's, Jill recognized - and a slighter higher, older female - most likely Aunt Polly. She caught the word _later, _and then the voices died away.

Jill pressed her forehead to Peter's as they laughed and softly kissed. "Timing," she said, snickering against his mouth. "I could improve."

"But your practical application..." Peter lifted the dress over her head. "Impeccable, sweetheart. I could not ask for any better."

"I would not mind more practice," said Jill with an impudent grin as she emerged from the top of it. "Always room for improvement, don't you think?"

"I'm not sure that is actually possible but..." Peter did the buttons up the back of her dress. "I certainly wouldn't mind trying."

"Oh, but..." Jill glanced down at their obvious _dishabille _and gave him a questioning look. "What _shall_ we tell the others?"

Peter put on his best kingly air. "We were being _Narnian_, Jill."

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_Finis_

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**A/N: **Thank you so much for reading! Remember that the best way to encourage more Narnia lemons is to leave reviews and faves; I am absurdly fond of anon reviews and delighted to get them, as well as suggestions of what pairings you'd like to see in the future. Very happy to take requests ;). I will also probably be posting more Jill/Peter in the future, so ya know, use the author alerts to your advantage!


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